


There's A First Time For Everything

by Arlana



Series: GoShira Fanweek 2020 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Confessions, First Meetings, Firsts, GoShira Fanweek 2020, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Beta Read, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27539470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlana/pseuds/Arlana
Summary: It was only later, somewhere between packing into the bus to make the short trip back to Shiratorizawa and watching Goshiki quietly snore away in the seat beside him, that a startling realization dawns on Shirabu.
Relationships: Goshiki Tsutomu/Shirabu Kenjirou
Series: GoShira Fanweek 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011558
Kudos: 34
Collections: Goshira Fanweek 2020





	There's A First Time For Everything

**Author's Note:**

> **GoShira Fanweek 2020**  
>  Day 5: Firsts
> 
> Lol I'd like to consider this a spiritual cousin to [ this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24849151) but...better.
> 
> Only the second time I've written one of these snippets fics and I think i really enjoy it! Might definitely do more in the future if inspiration strikes and make it a series for ships that I enjoy. Who knows.

“I'm going to be the next Ace and surpass Ushijima-san!”

Shirabu Kenjirou's first impression of Goshiki Tsutomu was not a favourable one to say the least.

Loud. Obnoxious. Boastful.

Those and many other decidedly less flattering thoughts came to mind when his eyes settled on the taller first year. He was overly eager and simply delusional, declaring such an embarrassing thing as part of his introduction. It had been a miracle that he hadn’t been laughed out of the gym with his tail between his legs.

It was an impossible thought, that anyone could ever come near surpassing Ushjima-san. Let alone some bowl-cut brat of a first year.

However, the senpais seemed to love him despite his brash and pompous attitude and that only further fueled Shirabu’s initial irritations. Tendou-san was already showering him with unearned and unnecessary encouragement, further inflating his ego and egging on his boisterous behaviour. He offers to block spikes should Goshiki want extra practice. Hayato-san offers to join in, eager to work on his receiving with the new recruit, despite being a well rounded libero. Beside him Reon-san gives some friendly advice and tips, his signature warm and welcoming smile turned up to be extra reassuring; and even Semi-san was kindly offering to set for the newbie whenever he wanted outside of regular practice.

Goshiki preens at the attention and Shirabu finds another reason to dislike him.

Warm-ups and drills and 3-on-3s pass on by quickly enough. Coach Washijo and Saito—but mostly Washijo—watch them like hawks, analyzing and scrutinizing. Some of the first years wilt under their gaze, folding in on themselves and making rudimentary mistakes in their plays. Shirabu scoffs at how easily his new kouhai buckle under the stress.

But not Goshiki.

No, he was different. He seemed to thrive on attention, if anything the intensive pressure motivated him to do better than all the others. Outshining his peers and effortlessly catching the coaches’ eye. Shirabu also catches himself watching him with a careful curiosity, though he’d deny it if anyone asked.

When coach announces a scrimmage Shirabu secretly hopes to not have to work with Goshiki so soon. Anyone will do but he’s especially keen to not have to be the first year's main setter on the first day.

(He wasn't that lucky. He finds himself setting to the new first year and also being pitted against their seniors was hardly a fair decision; but he doesn't voice it. Kawanishi didn't seem particularly thrilled either.)

The match had been less than spectacular. They don't fumble (because of course not, they played for Shiratorizawa) but they weren’t in good sync either.

To an outsider they might have played absolutely well, but compared to the seamless teamwork of Ushijima-san and Semi-san they were sloppy. Each set had been absolutely flawlessly executed, perfectly tailored to Ushijima's approach and preference to maximize Ushijima’s strength and scoring potential. Where the two barely needed any direction or direct verbal communication to understand one another's thoughts on the court he and Goshiki seemed to have been speaking completely different languages. 

Semi and Ushijima's effortless teamwork and trust exemplified what it meant to be a powerful setter-spiker duo. They on the other hand were nothing but a poor mimicry that paled in comparison. 

Though it could be chalked up to the newness of their relationship—if one could call it that—Shirabu knows they can do better, should have done better. As far as he was concerned their playing had been abysmal and he blamed Goshiki Tsutomu for it.

Yet, he still catches himself watching Goshiki for rest of practice. Finds himself taking stock of the other's strength and weaknesses. Noticing how Goshiki favored straights as opposed to crosses, that he liked going for digs that leaned heavily on his right side and had no problem diving headfirst for any and every ball, how he always stuck his tongue out and spun the ball exactly three and a half times before each serve.

But most importantly, how he gave his all without reservations and though still rough around some edges there was an unmistakable passion and determination burning within.

Shirabu sends glares in the newbie's direction every chance he got, irked at himself for paying so much attention to someone who probably wouldn’t even make starter until the following year. The slow bubble of irritation simmering deep within his gut continued to gnaw away at his mind.

It was going to be a long year.

°°°

_Tweeeeeeet_

The blow of the referee’s whistle resounds through the still air, announcing to all those gathered the end of the match and breaking the spell of silence that had befallen the court. The room erupts in cheers as the numbers on the scoreboard are changed one final time, cementing their hard-earned victory.

Across the net the other team gathers themselves, biting back tears and stifling sobs as they approached the net. They line up without another word, exchanging the customary handshakes before the teams break; watching the other team's retreating backs as they trotted off toward their waiting coach.

They wait until the other team has made it mostly off the court before descending into utter madness, finally allowing themselves to bask in their win and celebrate the moment.

Goshiki in all his excitement quite literally sweeps Shirabu off his feet. He lifts him up with an ease that catches Shirabu by surprise and swings him in a circle right there on the court for the world to see. 

The roar of the crowd is swallowed up by the sound of blood rushing in his head before being drowned out by something decidedly more pleasant. Goshiki’s warm and familiar voice is in his ear, laughing or crying he isn't sure. Maybe both.

Some of the infectious energy seems to leech into him as Shirabu doesn't waste a breath in scolding the younger. The thought doesn’t even cross his mind. The high of their win boosting his mood and instead he wraps his arms around the other's neck and allows himself to savour the moment.

“We did it Shirabu-san! We made it to the finals!” Goshiki shrieks as the rest of their teammates descend upon them. His arms don’t completely untangle themselves from around Shirabu's torso when he finally sets him down, instead they are simply readjusted. One arm releases Shirabu while the other tighten its hold around his shoulders, giving room for their teammates crowd in and suddenly there are bodies everywhere and Shirabu finds himself pressed between Goshiki and Kawanishi in the middle of a group hug.

They’re all sweaty and gross and tired as hell, and Shirabu is sure that his heart was stuck in his throat, but victory had never felt so _good._

Distantly Shirabu hears coach telling them to settle down, that they hadn't yet secured a place at nationals. But he hardly cared.

A year’s worth of hard work was starting to show. They’d come back with a vengeance in the wake of their loss the year prior and Shirabu would be damned if they didn’t win the qualifiers and advance to reclaim their title.

It was only later, somewhere between packing into the bus to make the short trip back to Shiratorizawa and watching Goshiki quietly snore away in the seat beside him, that a startling realization dawns on Shirabu.

It was the first time he had ever returned a hug.

°°°

They stay up together all night long the day before the third years graduate. It's the first time Goshiki has pulled a serious all-nighter, with no repercussions to fear. The school year was basically well and done. No more exams to worry about and volleyball practice was temporarily suspended in favor of end of year activities. The occasion seemed fitting enough given that in a mere few hours Goshiki will have to let the last of his closest friends go, he didn't want to waste a single second sleeping when he could spend it soaking up the last bits of Shirabu and Kawanishi before they too became ghosts of Shiratorizawa past.

(Perhaps that thought was a little too dramatic but Goshiki's mind was no stranger to spinning fantastical nonsense.)

He had other friends—and plenty of kouhais of his own now too—so it wasn't as if he would have no one to keep him company or to do things with. But it wasn’t quite the same. Would never be quite the same after tomorrow. 

If one were to ask, Goshiki had always been closest to his senpais from his first year. Always chasing after their backs until he finally began walking beside them. They had accepted him into their little makeshift family and overtime had become synonymous with everything that Shiratorizawa would come to represent.

He doesn't know what he'll do after Shirabu and Kawanishi leave him. He isn't ready to let go.

The three of them had spent hours after dinner hanging out in one of the common rooms on Shirabu and Kawanishi's floor in the dorms, reminiscing the past three years. Retelling old stories and enjoying the easy friendship that lied beneath the surface of all their banter and vitriol. Goshiki becomes privy to stories that he hadn’t known of before he entered their lives and he finds himself rather melancholic.

It wasn't fair, he thinks, he’s had to watch his friends graduate once before and now had to endure it once more. They'd move on and leave him behind and he hopes they never grow apart the way some people say friends do when there is nothing left to bind them. He can’t imagine what future without his friends would look like, he hardly even remembers a time before them.

Eventually Kawanishi grows weary and returns to his room. Though it was well past midnight neither Shirabu or Goshiki felt the familiar tendrils of exhaustion. They wonder how Kawanishi could sleep knowing the impending change on the horizon.

He isn't sure who suggested it first. It could have been Shirabu, who had finally grown bored of the quiet dorms, or himself, whose body was overflowing with restless energy simply begging to be expended. But it didn't matter either way, they had still ended up here. Here, being the small secluded field behind one of the buildings on the east end of campus, where students often liked to picnic or unwind on breezy spring days.

It was an unusually clear night, not a cloud in the sky despite it being March. They had bundled up appropriately and taken a stroll through campus, the silence and late hour transforming the familiar buildings and pathways into a wholly other worldly place.

Together they had laid, side-by-side shoulders pressed together and Shirabu's head resting against Goshiki's, in the damp grass, picking out specks of barely visible stars and conversing in hushed tones. They don’t run out of topics (recently it seemed as if they always had something to tell one another) until the wee hours of dawn. They greet sunrise in silence, achingly aware that it’d be the last time they would sneak out together to watch the sun bathe the Shiratorizawa grounds in its rosy glow, before parting ways back to the dorms to get dressed and begin the third year's final official day at Shiratorizawa Academy.

°°°

Graduation day comes like any other. The buzz of excitement palpable in the crisp morning air. Students pour into the awaiting designated ceremony building, a sea of white and maroon as far as the eye could see; claiming seats beside friends, anticipation weighing heavy in their mind for a peek of what would await them at the end of their three-year journey at Shiratorizawa.

The ceremony was long, longer than expected to be honest and Goshiki finds himself fidgeting in his seat and zoning out for more than half of it. Hundreds of names were called and he recognizes a handful of them, the now former teammates and alumn of the Shiratorizawa Boys’ Volleyball Club each take to the stage and regally walk across it to accept their diplomas; closing the chapter of their teenage years and moving forward toward the waiting world. One where Goshiki does not, cannot inhabit. Not yet.

Goshiki tries not to cry.

He fails.

He watches raptly as Shirabu and Kawanishi have their names called and walk across the stage to accept their diplomas. He bites down on the urge to clap and cheer, knowing that it was bad manners but he wants to anyways. Make them acknowledge him and see him one last time.

The rest of the ceremony passes by in a blur and Goshiki finds himself wishing that the principle would hurry up his speech and release them. 

Eventually the ceremony wraps up with some final words from the graduating class and a song before the students file out in the same lines they had entered in. The audience patiently waits until they have fully exited before stirring to life and following close behind into the courtyards.

The now graduates have the luxury of taking their time to mill around the area following the ceremony. Many of whom greet and join with their parents for photos before they had to return to work. While others searched out friends to commemorate the ending of their school years together, and other—braver—students were looking to finally confess long-harbored feelings to crushes.

Shirabu and Kawanishi were no exceptions.

Kawanishi makes himself scarce with an excuse of talking to classmates, allowing Shirabu the opportunity to drag Goshiki somewhere less public and more secluded.

Realistically Goshiki knows that he should be returning to class soon since he wasn't a graduate and was only permitted to attend the ceremony, but he follows anyways.

Being scolded was a small price to pay for a handful more of minutes.

They find themselves behind the gym where they once practiced together, Goshiki curiously watching as Shirabu loosened his tie and fingered the flower pinned to his lapel.

Three years of high school had flown by in the blink of an eye, and Shirabu finds himself once again taking stock of Goshiki; much like he had their first meeting the year prior. The once first year was taller now, having hit another growth spurt recently and gaining a few centimeters in height, puberty had shaved away the last vestiges of boyish looks and had left him with something more mature, though he was still just as much of a brat as the first time Shirabu had laid eyes on him. Still the same passionate kid with an ardent need to prove himself and be acknowledged. He was still boastful but it was not without water, and he had certainly never stopped trying to gain his seniors’ favour. 

(Though he never really needed to try in the first place.)

But in many ways, Shirabu thinks, he had changed. _They_ had changed.

Somewhere along the last two years the annoying first year spiker had crawled into the tightly guarded chambers of Shirabu's heart. He had made himself a comfortable home in the nooks and crannies. Planting himself and stubbornly refusing to be uprooted despite the many tries until he bloomed. Flourishing and expanding to overtake every last inch until Shirabu could no longer extricate him without tearing out some of himself as well.

“Goshiki—”

“—Shirabu-san”

They begin at the same time. Both quickly cut off their sentences, gawking at one another for a moment before Shirabu motions for Goshiki to speak first.

“I-um, congratulations Shirabu-san! I just wanted to say that I’m very happy I got you meet you, and it’s been really fun playing volleyball with you—and Kawanishi-san too—and I appreciate everything you've shown me. And-and—,” Goshiki's lip quivers as he stumbles over his words, crystalline tears begin gathering at the corner of his eyes. The sight was quite pitiful, it was only graduation after all, but Shirabu finds himself helpless to anything to alleviate the heartache, “—‘m goin’ to miss you!”

Shirabu for the first time ever is at a loss of words in the face of Goshiki. He isn’t sure of what to say, but to say nothing was worse, “I'll miss you too Goshiki.” His voice was foreign even to his own ears. Soft and gentle in a way he hardly ever needed to be. Reassuring even and Goshiki seems to catch the unfamiliar tone, his brows furrowing in an endearing childlike way.

With a heavy sigh Shirabu reaches out tentatively, brushing his fingers across the back of the spiker’s hand. The same hand that had never failed to spike any ball that came his way, and especially so if Shirabu had set them. One that he had idly looked at on more than one occasion; wondering what it would be like to hold them, if their hands would fit as nicely and perfectly together as he hoped it would.

“This isn't the end,” He begins, “I’m not going to just leave you behind and forget about you. I couldn’t, even if I tried.” He smiles fondly, the mere thought of trying to forget the other was absurd, let alone actually forgetting him. Goshiki had taken up residence in his thoughts more often than he knew and Shirabu hadn’t minded it in a very long time.

“I know…it’s just, it’ll be different. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

“You'll be fine, you haven’t needed your senpai’s approval in a long time.”

“That’s not—!” Goshiki pauses, “It’s not just that Shirabu-san, I’m really really going to miss you! How am I supposed to have lunch without you or-or who will stay up super late with me after extra practice to help me study? And who will do extra practice with me, even when I ask on Sunday mornings?”

“Amano is a promising setter; he'll be a regular next year with me gone and I’m sure he'll practice with you.”

“Yeah but—! It's not the same,”

“Of course not—”

“—because it won’t be _you.”_

Had he been anyone else Shirabu is certain he would have missed the inflection. The slightest bit of whine coupled with something he hadn't dared to search for before.

He had brushed off all of Kawanishi's teasing quips and snide comments, believing that the blocker was simply trying to get a rise out of him—as best friends do. But perhaps he had been more observant that Shirabu had thought.

“Goshiki,” he tentatively says, unsure of whether or not he himself was ready for the answer he would receive, “is there something you want to tell me?”

There was no reply.

“Tsutomu.” He says firmly once more. He had never been on a first names basis with the younger, never been on a first names basis with most people.

He watches as the gears in the other’s head spun. He could practically hear the cacophony of thoughts ringing through his mind, and he waits. Patiently without judgment.

Finally, Goshiki seems to settle on something, he lifts his head, squares his shoulders and resolutely declares, “I like you Shirabu-san.”

Shirabu hardly has time to process before Goshiki starts off again, this time more reserved and unsure.

“I’ve always like you Shirabu-san. Even when you didn’t like me at the beginning, I wanted to make you like me. You were always so cool and calm, and I’ll always think that you’re the best setter and-and, I know that you probably don’t like me back. And that’s okay! But…I want us to still be friends…” He trails off, all his confidence vanishing, leaving him deflated and looking rather sheepish, a bright blush high on his cheeks.

Shirabu huffs out an amused sound, reaching up to pinch at Goshiki's cheek, “You always have to be out here saying all kinds of stupid things, don't you?”

Wide eyes stare back him, confusion written all over his features. “H-huh?”

“Thank you for telling me…and I accept your feelings.”

“Huh?”

Rolling his eyes Shirabu lets out an exasperated sigh, “I like you too, you brat.”

In the next moment Shirabu finds himself being suddenly smothered in a bone crushing hug; his hands come up to grasp at the stiff blazer fabric as the arms around him tighten. A choked breathy laugh is exhaled next to his ear and he tries to muffle to dumb smile pulling at his lips. It doesn't work.

They stand there for a long moment, neither wanting to let go.

“Want to skip class?” Shirabu whispers quietly as they separate. Attempting to not sound too eager at the chance to spend all the remaining time he had left at Shiratorizawa with the boy who had somehow become one of the best parts of attending.

(He had never been a skipper—and neither was Goshiki—but, what the hell. He was graduated and Goshiki, well, he well liked enough by faculty and students alike to be able to get away with skipping for the first time.)

Goshiki bites his lip for a hesitant moment, brown eyes flicking downward in thought before he meets Shirabu's gaze and responds eagerly, “Okay!”

If there was anything Shirabu had learned in the past three years, it was that there was first time for everything. And he had a sneaking suspicion that there would be many more exciting firsts with Goshiki at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> I think of the three fics I have written for GoShira week this one is my favourite! I really enjoyed doing the narrative and trying to squeeze as much in as I could in the sections.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and please feel free to leave a kudo or comment! ♡
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@Arlanaaaahhhh](https://twitter.com/arlanaaaahhhh)


End file.
